


Challenge of the Dark

by midget_boss



Series: One Universe Over [14]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Cave-In, Caves, Force-Sensitive Clone Troopers (Star Wars), Friendship, Gen, Injury, POV Multiple, Trapped, mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midget_boss/pseuds/midget_boss
Summary: Several members of Ghost Company end up trapped in a cave system. The experience is a little different for each of them.
Series: One Universe Over [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924129
Comments: 1
Kudos: 87





	1. Regroup

**Author's Note:**

> Each section is written from a different point of view, but covers events starting more or less from where the last one finished. Italics are used to convey when the POV character is hearing something over the com lines.

“I want everyone to call out their name and status,” Cody announced when the rumbling stopped. He turned on the flashlight on his bucket. “Cody, uninjured.”

“Crys,” the young man called. He cursed almost too quietly to be heard. “My ankle’s twisted.”

“Boil, uninjured.” There was some shuffling from the direction of his voice.

“Waxer,” the man groaned. “My head’s killing me.”

“Buzz, uninjured,” their medic said grimly as he switched on his light. “Boil, don’t let him move. Anyone else hurt?”

“If I say I’m not, does it disappear?” Jester joked weakly. Cody looked over to see him curled on his side.

“Name and status,” Cody replied as he walked over.

“Jester, sir,” Jester grumbled. “And I don’t know.”

“What does that mean?” Buzz demanded, looking up from where he was helping Boil get Waxer’s bucket off. His flashlight strobed across Cody’s bucket, but luckily the sensors adjusted quickly enough he wasn’t blinded.

“His legs are stuck,” Cody said as he examined the other man.

“I can’t feel them,” Jester admitted, a strange edge to his voice. “They’re still attached, right?”

“You’re still in one piece,” Cody said gruffly.

“Can we dig him out?” Crys asked as crouched beside them.

Cody moved to examine the rocks as Buzz took his place. He ran every scan he could as he moved slowly around them, careful not to touch anything. Small rocks cascaded down anyway. After a long moment he admitted, “No. This debris is unstable. If we try to move him, we’ll bring more of it down on top of him.”

“Let’s not do that,” Jester said, his voice pitched higher than normal.

“What’s going on?” Waxer asked drowsily. “Boil, get off. I’m tired.”

“Do not let him fall asleep,” Buzz snapped, not looking up from his scanner.

“I wasn’t going to,” Boil grumbled. “I know that much.”

“How does his head look?” Buzz asked absently.

“I’ll take a look,” Cody offered.

“That’s right, you have basic training.” Buzz almost sounded relived. “Let me know if you need help.”

Cody didn’t bother to reply as he moved over to crouch beside his two best scouts. He carefully directed the beam of light onto the wet patch he could see. The left side of Waxer’s face was covered in blood and his left eye looked swollen shut. A closer look revealed a cut about an inch wide just above the other man’s temple. Boil was digging out some gauze from the small med kit everyone carried.

“One two-inch contusion with a cut in the center,” Cody said softly. He shifted so that Boil could press the gauze to the wound.

“That hurts,” Waxer grunted, trying to shift away.

“Stay still,” Cody ordered. He ducked down so that he could shine his light into the other man’s eyes.

“Ow, quit that,” Waxer grumbled. He tried to bat Boil’s hands away. “Get that light out of my eyes.”

“His pupils aren’t dilating properly,” Cody muttered.

“Why can’t I sleep?” Waxer demanded. “It’s the night rotation.”

“No, it isn’t,” Boil told him. “It’s the middle of the day. We just got trapped underground.”

“Why are we underground?” Waxer demanded.

“The general called a retreat,” Boil said patiently. He looked over at Cody. “Don’t you remember?”

“A retreat?” Waxer muttered. He scowled. “The last thing I remember is the general came flying over that hill. Where’s he at anyway?”

“ _Did anyone get a read on the general_?” Boil asked over the general com line.

“He was two klicks to the right of us,” Cody replied easily. “He had Threepwood and Black with him.”

“ _Black was injured_ ,” Buzz said on Cody’s private line. “ _I was getting ready to go to him when that explosion occurred_.”

“Do you know how bad it was?” Cody asked as dread settled in his stomach. He’d been hoping that the general and the two troopers had made it out of the blast range.

“ _No, but Threepwood called me over to them_ ,” Buzz answered, his meaning clear.

“ _I’ve been trying to contact Threepwood and the general_ ,” Crys announced on the open line. “ _I can’t get through._ ”

“ _The rocks are too thick_ ,” Jester muttered dourly. “ _Hey, do you think if I try screaming in my mind as loud as I can, I can get the general’s attention?_ ”

“ _Maybe,_ ” Crys replied. “ _He sometimes shows up in the forward rec room claiming our laughter drew him, but he was on a completely different floor_.”

“ _He does,_ ” Boil agreed. “ _I once saw him leave his dinner because he said one of the tookas needed help._ ”

“ _I remember that,_ ” Jester wheezed. “ _Okay, I’m going to call the general_.”

“Get off,” Waxer cried irritably. “My head hurts enough without you pressing on it.”

“How is Jester?” Cody asked over Buzz’s private line.

“ _Under a lot of pressure,_ ” Buzz said dryly. “ _These scanners can tell me that the blood flow to his legs is dangerously cut off. He’s lucky none of that landed on his chest. But I can’t tell why he can’t feel his legs or if any other damage has been done to them until I can get him out of there and out of his armor_.”

“Boil, are your scanners working?” Cody asked.

“Yes sir,” Boil replied crisply, not bothering with the com. “I can’t get past any of this rock, though.”

“How big is the area we’re in?” Cody asked, doing the same.

“One and a half klicks,” Boil answered. “There’s a passage to my northeast, but it cuts off a few feet in.”

“You and Crys go as far as you can down that passage,” Cody ordered. “If the passage branches back toward the north, continue down it until it either turns off, comes to a stop, or you find something. If it heads in any other direction return here.”

“Yes, sir,” Boil and Crys replied. Boil handed Cody the unused gauze as he stood.

“Now maybe I can get some sleep,” Waxer muttered.

“You’ve been studying Mando’a, right?” Cody asked as he kneeled by the scout. “I missed the last class.”

“You want me to remember words now?” Waxer demanded in disbelief.

“Have fun,” Boil called as he and Crys left.

…………………….

“This reminds me of a time during my apprenticeship. My master and I were assigned to protect the young Duchess of Mandalore,” Obi-Wan announced to the darkness.

“Why?” Black wheezed out the question.

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Why were you assigned to protect the Duchess?” Threepwood demanded explosively. “You weren’t trained to be bodyguards.”

“Jedi are trained to fulfill multiple roles,” Obi-Wan explained gently. The younger man had been growing increasingly restless since the explosion. An hour of sitting in the dark may have been his limit.

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between being trained to fight and being trained as a bodyguard, isn’t there?” Threepwood retorted belligerently.

“Jedi are trained for whatever situation they find themselves in,” Obi-Wan replied carefully.

“Except this one,” Threepwood snapped.

“You are correct,” Obi-Wan agreed. “I haven’t been trained to dig my way out of tunnels. I should say, we try to train for anything.”

“That’s an oversight you might want to correct, sir,” Black said softly. “For future generations, I mean.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Black,” Obi-Wan assured him. He reached over to press his hand against the young man’s pulse, unsurprised to find it weak and fast. “You should rest, my friend.”

“So how does this remind you of protecting the Duchess?” Black asked. “I’ll rest easier if you tell us a story.”

“Well, I’ll try to make it an interesting one, then,” Obi-Wan said. “We spent the better part of the year moving from place to place, trying to out run her would-be assassins.”

“Assassins, sir?”

“Yes well, the opposing side very much did not want her to become Duchess,” Obi-Wan explained. “Anyway, there were several occasions in which we ended up spending a night or more in a cave. On one memorable occasion we ended up having to take a tunnel that turned out to be blocked at the other end.”

“Blocked by what, sir?” Threepwood asked. Thankfully, the story seemed to help him settle.

“By a house,” Obi-Wan answered wryly, grinning as their disbelief filled the silence. “It turned out the tunnel was an escape route that led from a couple’s cellar.”

“So you guys were stumbling around without any clue where you even where?” Threepwood demanded, sounding indignant.

“I’m not sure I would go that far,” Obi-Wan protested.

“You ended up in somebody’s cellar, sir,” Black said softly. “Without meaning to. I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of not knowing where you are.”

“While I didn’t know where we were, my master may have,” Obi-Wan told them.

“How old were you when this happened?” Threepwood demanded.

“About 16 standard,” Obi-Wan admitted.

“So your master had no sense of direction?” Threepwood asked. “Is that why you have no sense of direction?”

“Oh, he had a sense of direction,” Obi-Wan assured them. “But our whole goal was to try to get lost to keep away from the assassins, remember. And my sense of direction is just fine, thank you.”

“There’s keeping away from assassins, sir, and there’s invading private property without even meaning to,” Black pointed out dryly.

“We’ve accidentally invaded private property,” Obi-Wan reminded them.

“We’re fighting a war,” Threepwood retorted.

“And we were running for our lives,” Obi-Wan said. “There’s a great deal of similarity there.”

“Can’t argue that,” Boil called. A beam of light appeared in the distance.

“I’m still not sure how this situation actually compares to that one,” Black said. He tried to sit up, but Obi-Wan gently held him down.

“The similarities begin and end with just being underground,” Obi-Wan admitted. He felt Threepwood pull away from his side and head toward the light.

“Boil, was that you?” Threepwood called hopefully.

“Yep,” Boil replied cheerfully. “I’ve got Crys with me. Who’ve you got?”

“Black and General Kenobi,” Threepwood answered, relief clear in his tone. “The others?”

“Are back a few klicks,” Crys replied as a second beam of light appeared. “Why are you guys sitting in the dark?”

“Black’s bucket is missing,” Threepwood answered. “And my flashlight was damaged.”

“What about your coms?” Boil demanded as he rounded a corner. Obi-Wan had to look away from the bright light. “We’ve been trying to call you the entire time we were walking here.”

“Mine is damaged, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan admitted. He used his right hand to steady his left arm as he raised it high enough to show the mess his vambrace had become.

“General, sir, how badly hurt are you?” Crys demanded as he moved over to them quickly.

“It’s not that bad,” Obi-Wan assured them. He hissed when Crys turned it over. “The arm is broken, but I think it’s probably a clean break.”

“You think,” Boil muttered. He crouched down to examine Black. “How’s it going, kid?”

“I think I’ll live,” Black replied with a weak smile. “They used all the bacta they had on my side.”

Obi-Wan knew the silence was because the conversation between the older troopers was occurring over the coms. It was times like these he regretted not having a way to be a part of these conversations, but he reminded himself it was no different than if they had chosen to speak in a language he didn’t know. They deserved their privacy.

“General, we’ve got Commander Cody and Sgt. Buzz tending to Waxer and Jester,” Boil said softly, putting his helmet right next to Obi-Wan’s ear. “Waxer’s got a concussion and Jester is trapped by debris. Threepwood says your leg is injured?”

“It’s not bad,” Obi-Wan insisted.

“Crys twisted his ankle,” Boil told him quietly. “I’ve been helping him limp slowly this whole time. I’m going to help Threepwood carry Black, but the two of you are going to be on your own.”

“We’ll be fine,” Obi-Wan assured him.

“Not a problem,” Crys agreed. “You ready to get back to the others, kid?”

“Sure,” Black replied. “Just help me up and we can go.”

“We’ll be carrying you,” Threepwood informed him. “Boil and I, so try not to move around too much, or we might drop you.”

“I can walk,” Black protested as Boil slid his hands under the younger trooper’s arm pits.

“Yeah, but we can carry you,” Boil replied as he waited for Threepwood to get a good grip on the younger man’s knees. “One. Two. Three.”

They lifted him together easily. Obi-Wan was privately amazed at the smoothness of the maneuver. He moved his legs out of the way as they started off.

“Up you go, sir,” Crys said quietly, offering him a hand. “It’s a bit of a walk, so we better not linger.”

Obi-Wan allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Boil said that Jester was trapped, but I think there’s more to the story.”

“His legs are under some rubble,” Crys confirmed as they followed the others. “It’s too unstable to move, but Jester says he can’t feel his legs.”

“I see. He’s not taking it well.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “Not that I blame him,” he added hastily when Crys turned his helmet.

“Sir?” Crys sounded wary. “You can feel that?”

“Well, yes, in a way,” Obi-Wan admitted quietly. “When I was meditating earlier I could feel that he felt trapped and desperate. It was almost like he was screaming at me, which is kind of odd because usually I don’t get sensations like that.”

“So that doesn’t happen all the time?” Crys demanded.

“No, not all the time,” Obi-Wan replied. “Do you know if any of you are Force sensitive?”

“I wouldn’t think so, sir,” Crys answered.

“I should look into it,” Obi-Wan muttered to himself. He sighed unhappily. “Too bad my com is broken, or I would make myself a note.”

“I’ll tell the commander to remind you,” Crys promised, something light entering his tone. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to help.”

…………………….

After half an hour of steady marching even the two lagging behind them had fallen silent. Boil didn’t let himself worry about Waxer. There was nothing he could do for him that the commander couldn’t. So he focused solely on the weight of Black in his arms and the rhythm of Threepwood’s marching. By the time he could pick up com activity he was beginning to feel sore.

“ _-not sure what we’re going to be able to do,_ ” Buzz admitted. “ _I’ve got Jester sedated and there’s not much more I can do for him, but if you have to go look for the others …_ ”

“We’re on our way back,” Boil interrupted. “Threepwood and I are carrying Black. He took a major hit in the side, but Threepwood and the general used all the bacta they had on it.”

“ _How’s the general?_ ” Commander Cody asked.

“His left arm is broken, but he says he thinks it’s a clean break,” Boil replied dryly. “Also, something’s wrong with one of his legs, but we didn’t have time to find out the details. He can limp, at least.”

“ _He did something to help Black,_ ” Threepwood admitted quietly. “ _He had to rest for a while afterwards._ ”

“ _How far out are you?_ ” Commander Cody asked.

“Fifteen minutes, sir,” Boil answered. “So get a nice soft bed ready for the kid here.”

Buzz snorted. “ _We’ve got a place next to Waxer for him. I hear he’s fond of the kid._ ”

“ _Black’s a good sort,_ ” Threepwood cut in. “ _Not like those little shits that got put in Zoh company and their attitude problems_.”

“ _That’s why they got put in Zoh company,_ ” Crys reminded him. “ _We weren’t going to put up with that nonsense_. _Ghost company has higher standards_.”

“ _Zoh is for heavy machinery,_ ” Commander Cody said dryly.

“ _And people who think too highly of themselves,_ ” Black muttered. “ _Did you see what they painted on the LAAT they claimed?_ ”

“Who do you think ordered them to clean it off?” Boil demanded, grinning at the memory. “I’m surprised they didn’t say, considering the sheer amount of bitching they did about it.”

“ _Can the chatter,_ ” Commander Cody ordered. “ _Boil, did your scanners pick up any way out?_ ”

“Negative, sir,” Boil reported regretfully. “It’s solid rock all the way to the little nook we found these guys in.”

“ _Solid rock?_ ” the commander demanded. “ _Threepwood, how did you get there?_ ”

“ _We dropped from the ceiling, sir,_ ” Threepwood answered. “ _General Kenobi caught us_.”

“The tunnel went down three quarters of a klick from the level you’re at, sir,” Boil added.

“ _Not a good escape route, but still a possibility,_ ” Commander Cody muttered. “ _Any other possibilities?_ ”

“ _The tunnel branched out three times,_ ” Crys reported. “ _Once in the opposite direction we were going, and once in between.”_

“That we saw,” Boil added. “No telling which direction either goes for long.”

“ _We’ve got our ration packs heating up,_ ” Buzz announced suddenly. “ _Once you’re back we’ll eat and I can check everyone over_.”

“ _Can’t wait,_ ” Crys muttered. Boil resigned himself to an interrogation about the state of his companions.

…………………….

“I assure you, Buzz, I am perfectly capable of this,” General Kenobi announced levelly. If he were anyone else, Crys would have said he was irritated. As it was, the general looked serene, except for the way his eyebrows drew together.

“You can’t even tell me what exactly you’re going to do,” Buzz retorted, aggrieved.

“I need to examine the rubble first,” the general replied patiently. “Which is why I need to be over there.”

“You shouldn’t be standing any more than you have to,” Buzz insisted. “And you’re going to have to walk to get out of here!”

“I’ll sit down once I’m satisfied I know all I can,” General Kenobi assured him.

“You don’t have to stand to do your … whatever you’re going to do?” Waxer demanded.

“I’m not even sure yet if there’s anything I can do,” the general replied gravely.

Crys grimaced to himself, leaning away from his helmet and light so that the dark hid his expression. In spite of his ankle, he’d been relieved when the commander had sent him out with Boil. Anything was better than sitting here, unable to do anything for Jester.

Commander Cody had his bucket back on, probably reviewing the information from Boil’s scanners. Crys was tempted to put his own back on and volunteer to go scout those other tunnels. At least he’d be doing something.

“You can’t leave,” Boil muttered under his breath as he passed by. He paused and gave Crys a pleading look. “If you leave I’ll have to go with you and this is the best entertainment we’ve had in weeks.”

“Threepwood can record it for us,” Crys replied quietly. “This should be preserved for a rainy day.”

“Can you guys cut it out?” Threepwood demanded in a harsh whisper. “This could mean life or death for Jester!”

Boil grimaced and moved back to Waxer and Black. Buzz had done everything he could for the kid and declared that he had a good chance of making it. The same couldn’t be said for Jester. They needed to get him out of the rubble and into bacta soon. His chances were decreasing the longer it took.

“Sorry,” Crys muttered. “Trying to look on the bright side.” The alternative was already dragging him down. He shrugged when the other man glared at him.

“Crys, may I borrow your light?” General Kenobi asked. He leaned around Buzz, who was kneeling in front of him with his ever present scanner.

“Of course, sir,” Crys replied automatically. He carefully pretended not to see Buzz’s scowl as he tried to get to his feet.

“I’ll take it,” Threepwood muttered, putting his hand on Crys’ shoulder to keep him from rising. “Buzz looks like he’s about to have an aneurism.”

“You want the whole bucket?” Crys asked as he settled back into place. If Threepwood’s hand was a little heavier than it needed to be, well it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle it.

“No, thank you,” the general replied with a gentle smile. “Thank you for the offer.”

Crys often wondered if the general had the wrong idea about some things. A bucket was just a bucket, after all, and he could easily replace it. He’d gladly give the man his bucket whenever he wanted it, but he couldn’t deny his relief at the refusal. Threepwood snapped his fingers together, then opened his palm, so Crys removed his light and handed it to him. Then he put his bucket on and switched to the commander’s private line.

“Sir,” Crys began, but he was cut off.

“ _No one’s leaving until we know what, if anything, can be done,_ ” Commander Cody told him grimly.

“Yes, sir,” Crys replied. He adjusted the settings on his HUD to their brightest and started recording. At least it was something to do.

…………………….

Threepwood knew they didn’t mean it the way it sounded, just as he knew they realized why he was upset. Jester was their brother as much as he was Threep’s, but this would be far from the first time they’d lost a brother in a situation they could do nothing about. They weren’t usually stuck with literally nothing to do while it happened so slowly. He almost wished that Boil and Crys had taken longer to find them, or the trip back had taken longer, or anything to prevent them from being here, watching the general poke carefully at the rubble as dirt floated in the light of his borrowed flashlight.

“Well, the good news is that the air over here is fresh,” General Kenobi announced quietly. Somehow his voice seemed to fill the darkness. “So this rubble may not have blocked us from the surface.”

“Boil’s scanners may be able to work over there,” the commander offered.

“They might, but you were right when you said this rubble was unstable,” the general continued. “I can see just enough to know that he’ll need to climb a little way to get past what looks like a sheet of rock.”

“Not with Jester under there,” Threepwood cried, horrified.

“No, definitely not,” General Kenobi agreed. “Unfortunately, getting him out is going to be tricky.”

“Tricky, sir?” Commander Cody asked.

“Sit down while you try to figure this out,” Buzz snapped, pulling the general over to the nearest wall.

“Thank you, Buzz,” General Kenobi said absently when he was assisted to the floor. “Yes, tricky, commander. I’m afraid I don’t have Anakin’s sheer power, or I might be able to lift the whole thing off of him.”

Threepwood refrained from asking. The general was notorious for talking up General Skywalker whenever he had the chance. There was a bet GAR wide on whether a padawan was like a child or a protégé to their master. So far the results had been inconclusive, but the way General Kenobi spoke of the younger general, he definitely thought of him as family.

“What can you do?” the commander asked.

“I can stabilize the rubble and lift at least enough off of him that someone can drag him free,” the general admitted ruefully. “I realize that dragging him is not the best option, but I’m afraid that’s all I can do.”

“We’ll have two people grab onto his hip armor,” Buzz decided. “I want to avoid putting stress on his spinal cord.”

“Threepwood, you take the left,” Commander Cody ordered. “I’ll take the right. Buzz, where do you want him?”

“Over here next to the tunnel,” Buzz told him as he moved toward the opening. “If Boil’s going to climb that thing, I want the injured as far away as possible.”

“Boil, help Buzz move Black. Crys, steady Waxer,” the commander ordered. He and Threepwood moved to either side of Jester.

“What’s going on?” Jester demanded sleepily.

“We’re about to get you out of there,” Threepwood assured him, kneeling so that the other man could see his face.

“Threep?” Jester managed a smile. “Good to see you.”

“You too, Jester,” Threepwood replied thickly.

“You bring the general?” Jester asked.

“I brought myself, actually,” General Kenobi told him. He leaned over to smile at Jester. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here, but I’m here now.”

“Knew you’d come,” Jester announced, eyes closing. “I called for you.”

“I heard you,” the general said gently. “And now I’m going to get you free.”

“As free as I ever am,” Jester agreed softly.

“Yes.” General Kenobi nodded at them. “Whenever you gentlemen are ready.”

“We’re settled over here,” Buzz called.

“Right.” Commander Cody braced himself and took a careful hold of Jester’s armor, watching Threepwood do the same. When he nodded the commander looked at the general. “Ready, sir.”

“When I say go, move,” General Kenobi said. He braced one hand on the rubble and closed his eyes.

For a long moment there was no sound, but a faint light seemed to emanate around the general and the rubble. The air seemed lighter somehow. Threepwood caught the matching looks of concern on the commander’s and the medic’s faces as they watched the man steadily. He turned his own attention back to Jester to find him staring at the general with a look Threepwood didn’t know how to decipher. Around them the rubble began to lift.

“Go,” General Kenobi said quietly.

Threepwood and the commander pulled immediately. Dirt and small rocks fell off Jester as they went, but they didn’t stop until they were where Buzz pointed, ignoring the injured man’s groans. When they stepped back Threepwood discovered he was shaking. He stumbled over to sit down heavily beside Black.

“You got him out?” the kid asked hopefully.

“We got him out,” Threepwood agreed, surprised by how steady his voice was.

“Is he going to be okay?” Black asked.

“Let the medic work,” Threepwood told him gruffly. “He’ll let us know how Jester is when he can.” If he can.

…………………….

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” General Kenobi asked. He was listing to the side, or maybe Black was. Maybe they both were.

“Pull up some ground,” Waxer whispered cheerfully as he scooted to the side. “Or actually, don’t. You don’t look so good.”

“Don’t say that too loud” the general warned as he settled between them. “Buzz needs to focus on Jester.”

“And the commander needs to focus on getting us out of here,” Threepwood hissed, leaning over Black.

The younger man shoved him away and ended up tilting over onto the ground. “Back off,” he grumbled, pressing his hand against his side.

“Sorry,” Threepwood muttered.

“What crawled up your tail end?” Waxer demanded irritably. “All I’ve heard you do since you got here is hiss and gripe. You’re not even injured.”

“I said sorry,” Threepwood snapped.

“Gentlemen,” the general said disapprovingly. They fell silent.

In front of them two beams of light split the darkness, one pointed up and the other pointed down. They almost overlapped, leaving an impression of a column of light. It made everything else seem blacker somehow. There was a sound of shifting rock as Black watched the light on Boil’s bucket disappear.

“Be careful,” Waxer called.

“I’ve got his six,” Commander Cody assured him.

“I know,” Waxer acknowledged easily. “But he shouldn’t get overconfident.”

“I heard that,” Boil grumbled, the sound of his voice faint. “Who’s the one that got knocked in the head.”

“I think you tripped me,” Waxer replied. Black turned to see him grin when the other man made an outraged sound.

“Can the chatter,” Commander Cody ordered. “Boil, report.”

“I need another foot at least before I can clear that rock,” Boil announced, his light briefly illuminating the commander’s bucket.

“You’ve already got two left ones,” Jester muttered.

“Quiet,” Buzz snapped. “How are your legs feeling now?”

“You just told me to be quiet,” Jester complained.

“Threepwood, go assist Buzz,” General Kenobi said quietly.

“Yes, sir,” Threepwood answered as he moved away.

“How are we doing, Waxer, Black?” the general asked as a round of muttering started in two different directions.

“They’re making too much noise,” Waxer grumbled. “My head’s beginning to hurt again.”

“No blurry vision or spots?” General Kenobi asked.

“Can’t tell with all this darkness.” Waxer yawned loudly. “Make them let me sleep.”

“I know better than to countermand a medic orders,” the general told him dryly.

Black couldn’t help his small snort of amusement. He felt the other man shift beside him, probably trying to peer down at him in the dim light.

“And you, Black? How are you doing?” He felt the touch of General Kenobi’s hand on his head, as gentle as his voice.

“I’m okay, sir,” Black assured him. “Tired and sore, but I feel much better than earlier.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” the other man said. He ran his hand over Black’s hair to the back of his head and lifted it so he could shift his leg under his head. “Is that better?”

“Yes, sir,” Black answered with a sigh. “Can I go back to sleep now?”

“You can,” General Kenobi assured him. “I’ll keep watch over you.”

“Lucky,” Waxer muttered. Black tried to grin, but it was too much effort as he drifted away.

…………………….

“When did Boil and the commander disappear?” Buzz demanded as knelt in front of the general.

“About half an hour ago,” Waxer reckoned. “How’s Jester?”

“Still needs more help than I can provide here,” Buzz grumbled as he took out his scanner. “Hold still while I check your head.”

“Will I finally get to sleep?” Waxer demanded in a whisper.

“Not if you can’t follow simple orders,” Buzz snapped equally softly. “Hold still means don’t move at all. That includes talking.”

He pressed his lips together to bite back a retort. Even if the kid was asleep, he still needed to set a good example for him. Most of the others were hopeless, Boil especially.

“Well, you can try sleeping, but I’m going to wake you up every hour,” Buzz warned him.

“Then why bother?” Waxer demanded, outraged.

“Sleep will help you heal, even in small doses,” Buzz answered absently as he shifted to examine the general. “I have to wake you up every hour for a few hours to make sure you do in fact wake up.”

Waxer turned to study the general in the light of Buzz’s flashlight. General Kenobi leaned against the tunnel wall, eyes closed. The little lines around his eyes stood out on his pale skin. He was absolutely still.

“Lucky,” Waxer muttered, disgruntled.

“I’m not sure he’s asleep,” Buzz told him wryly as he started to scan the other man. “See how his eyes aren’t moving? And his breathing is perfectly regulated? Even when we’re asleep our breathing isn’t usually that perfect.”

“What’s he doing, then?” Waxer asked, fascinated.

“I think he’s meditating,” Buzz confessed quietly. “I’m not sure, though. I haven’t studied meditation myself or anyone who was currently practicing it.”

“There’s a meditation class,” Waxer told him helpfully. “The general even shows up now and then.”

“I’ve been threatening to show up myself, but I never seem to have the time when the class is available,” Buzz admitted with a sigh. He shifted to scan the general’s knee.

“How’s he doing?” Waxer asked when the medic finally leaned back.

“He’s going to be fine,” Buzz answered with a shrug. “But he’s going to need more down time than he’s likely to want, especially with that arm in two pieces. It’s a good thing he had his vambrace, or it would be in even more pieces.”

“You haven’t taken it off of him,” Waxer pointed out.

“For two reasons,” Buzz explained. “One, I’m going to need tools to remove it. Two, because right now it provides protection for the broken bone.”

“How long will he be out?” Waxer wondered. “We haven’t finished our mission here.”

“He’ll be working from the base for the rest of this mission, after he’s been released from medical, if that even happens before we’re finished,” Buzz announced dourly. He smiled grimly at Waxer’s low whistle. “Yes, I imagine that’s going to go over well.”

“You’re fussing too much,” General Kenobi murmured as he opened his eyes.

“There are rules about when to let a patient return to active duty after an injury,” Buzz reminded him tartly.

“You sound like Healer Che,” the general muttered. Waxer saw him grimace when Buzz’s eyes narrowed in the way that said he was memorizing something.

“We’ve got company,” Threepwood announced suddenly as he sprang to his feet. He moved over to the opening, weapon drawn.

Waxer moved his own weapon across his stomach as Buzz handed the general Jester’s blaster. The medic moved forward a little, prepared to launch himself forward to distract an attacker. General Kenobi wrapped his hands around the blaster in a confident manner, surprising Waxer somewhat. For someone who thought they were uncivilized, he seemed comfortable with one.

“It’s the rest of Ghost company,” Threepwood called, holstering his blaster. He moved forward to catch a rope. “On belay.”

“On repel,” a faint voice called.

General Kenobi was obviously relieved to hand Buzz back the blaster Waxer noticed as he holstered his own. In the commotion Black had woken up. The younger man tried to sit up, but the general pushed him carefully back down and bent to reassure him. He was a good man and a fine general. Waxer hoped they wouldn’t have to serve under anyone else again.


	2. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's made it back to the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally intended to post the whole thing as one long story, but there's a bit of a time jump before each of these sections so I separated them out as their own chapter.

“What a mess.” Buzz rubbed his face as he finished the last report.

“Ghost company was lucky,” Greenwood commented as he took the completed reports. “Only one trooper lost, besides Jester.” He flinched at the look Buzz gave him. “He might recover.”

“He might,” Buzz agreed grimly. “But it won’t be easy, or quick.”

“We thought there’d be heavier losses, after that explosion,” Greenwood admitted softly. “When no one could get a hold of half the company.”

“I’m told you did well,” Buzz said, leaning back in his chair.

“I only did what I had to do,” Greenwood told him frankly. “And sir, if I haven’t said it, I am so thankful you made it back in one piece.”

“Don’t want my position, huh?” Buzz asked wryly. “It comes with perks.”

“Like only getting cat naps while you spend eighty percent of your time babysitting the injured or sick?” Greenwood retorted. “I’ll pass. I have other things to do.”

“So quit bragging and go do them,” Buzz growled.

“I can do the rounds if you want to head to sleep,” Greenwood offered. “You’re going to be needed on the planet tomorrow when the mission continues.”

“I know where I’ll be,” Buzz assured him tartly. “And you’ll be down there again, in charge of the med tent.”

“Thanks for that,” Greenwood groaned. “Isn’t it the whiz kid’s turn?”

“When you did so well today?” Buzz said with a malicious grin. “Can’t let you fall behind or I might be accused of playing favorites.”

“No one who works in the med bay will ever accuse you of that,” Greenwood assured him dryly. “We all know how horrible you are.”

“It’s all part of my charm,” Buzz claimed. “Now get those filed and stop wasting my time. I have patients to torment.”

“Yes, sir,” Greenwood replied cheekily as he departed.

Buzz snorted as he moved out of his office. He wasn’t surprised to see Boil in the corner where he’d placed Waxer and Black, quietly telling them a story. They were close enough to the doorway he could grab him later as he corralled any other visitors out. First stop would be the farthest, the bacta tanks. Technically, no one should be back there at this time of night, but Aide was on duty. Not only was he a softie in general, but he had a thing for Ghost company in particular, or at least several members of it. Buzz had no intention of finding out any details there if he didn’t have to.

Sure enough, Threepwood was there in the back, arms folded across his chest as he stared at Jester. Why people wanted to stare at someone in a bacta tank was beyond him. They had to stand there since there weren’t any chairs in this area because honestly, he found it kind of creepy. His patients were not going to do anything without the alarms or the attendant med droid giving him ample warning.

“Sir, it is well past visiting hours,” the med droid said as he rounded the end of the row. “Aide said only that you had permission to visit for a few minutes, not that you would be allowed to linger.”

“Just a few more minutes,” Threepwood demanded.

“No,” Buzz said flatly. He met the other man’s glare with an unimpressed look. “Are you looking to be out on leave yourself?”

“No,” Threepwood muttered as he cast one last look at the tank.

“Then get out of here,” Buzz told him. “And take Boil with you on your way out.”

“Which one is he visiting?” Threepwood probed in a carefully casual tone.

“I do not involve myself with the private matters of my patients unless their health is involved,” Buzz informed him.

“There’s two desert bars on the line,” Threepwood told him.

“Get out of my med bay and don’t return until either the mission is finished or you’re injured,” Buzz said.

“Fine.” Threepwood stalked off, calling for Boil loudly enough that Buzz nearly yelled at him, but that would just make things worse. His patients needed to wind down so they could sleep.

With a sigh he decided to let the other man have his little fit. Boil would probably set him straight, anyway. Right now, he had a few more patients to see to.

“You’d think he was in one of those plays,” Jingle wheezed.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Holo,” Grunt muttered. “That stuff will rot your brain.”

“It is almost lights out,” Buzz announced calmly as he moved to check Jingle’s lungs. “If you cannot sleep with your curtains open, I will close them.”

There was some muted grumbling, but they settled down quickly. Eight light to moderately injured men were relatively easy to intimidate the first night. Tomorrow would be trickier, depending on how many joined them. And who didn’t join them.

“How does your chest feel?” Buzz asked as he listened. “And don’t tell me ‘fine’. I can hear how hard it is for you to breathe.”

“It hurts,” Jingle replied with a shrug. “Don’t know what else to tell you.”

“If it gets worse, the pain or the breathing, press that call button,” Buzz told him firmly. “Miracle will be on call all night.”

“Not the droid?” Grunt asked.

“No, a medic is on call all the time,” Buzz explained for the fifteenth time. “The med droid may get here first to provide emergency assistance, but one of us will come as soon as we can.”

“I’ll call,” Jingle promised, but Buzz wasn’t convinced. One day he would convince these men to trust their medics, but it wasn’t going to be today.

He looked over Grunt’s file and said quietly, “keep an eye on him.”

“Always do,” Grunt assured him softly.

The rest of his round went much the same. Buzz tried to reassure the more heavily injured men that they could call for assistance and get a medic, then ended up asking their buddies to keep an eye on them. He hated using patients to keep watch over other patients, especially since all of his patients needed to be resting, not worrying, but the medics hadn’t yet built up enough trust in the men. The fact that they had to separate the most injured from their peers and they often had to transfer to or leave people for the medical frigates didn’t help. Everyone was afraid that if they were too badly injured they’d be shipped out and possibly never seen again.

General Ti had helped, when she shut down the cremator. The Jedi building more barracks and adding on to the medical building on Coruscant had also helped, but it wasn’t enough. They had a long road to travel to get to where the men could have faith that they wouldn’t be discarded so easily.

Buzz stopped outside of the third of the private rooms. They only had four, but this one was usually reserved for the general. He took a moment to prepare himself, sure that he would be facing another argument about where the man should sleep. The door opened to reveal Commander Cody. Both paused to stare at each other.

“Buzz.” Commander Cody nodded.

“Commander,” Buzz said mildly, only slightly surprised to find him leaving on his own. “How is my patient?”

“Asleep, I think,” the commander answered.

“He is?” Buzz demanded, lowering his voice. “Move out of the way.”

Commander Cody stepped back to let him in. Buzz peered around him, hesitant to walk in for fear it would wake his patient. General Kenobi often slept lightly and could be woken at the sound of footsteps. He lay there, pale face turned toward the door. His eyes were moving rapidly under his eye lids. Buzz nudged the commander and gestured for him to follow him out. When the door shut he rounded on him.

“How did you do that?” he demanded in a whisper.

“We finalized the plan for tomorrow,” Commander Cody answered. “Then I assured him he could have his com and he fell asleep.”

“He cannot have his com,” Buzz hissed, outraged.

“He’ll need it,” the commander told him mildly. “We need to coordinate two fronts.”

“Do any of you know anything about resting?” Buzz demanded. “He needs to rest to heal.”

“He can rest after the mission is done,” Commander Cody informed him. He raised a hand to forestall Buzz’s retort. “As long as he’s conscious he needs to actively be engaged in doing something, or he can’t physically rest.”

Buzz scowled at him, but conceded the point. “I suppose so.”

“And I will need his help,” the commander admitted softly. “This will be the first time I’ll be in direct command of two fronts without a general on the ground at all.”

“You’ll do fine,” Buzz said gruffly. The commander nodded, but Buzz had a feeling that hadn’t been what the other man needed to hear. “Come on, I’ve got an order of chow waiting for me. You look like you could use a bite.”

“This late?” the commander asked as he followed him. “I’m not sure I want to know what the texture is like after so many hours.”

“They don’t feed you dinner at this time of night,” Buzz told him, rolling his eyes. “You’ll see.”

…………………….

“Do you have a few moments?” General Kenobi asked, peeking his head around the door to the private med bay.

“Only a few,” Jester replied with a wide grin. “I’ve only been out for twenty-four hours, so I’m still pretty popular right now.”

“I noticed,” the general said with a smile as he entered. He moved easily, so most of his injuries must have healed while Jester was in bacta, although his arm was still in a cast. “May I ask how you’re feeling, or are you sick of that question?”

“I’m sick of it,” Jester told him frankly.

“Then I won’t ask,” General Kenobi announced as he settled himself in the visitor’s chair next to Jester’s bed. He studied him silently.

“What can I do for you, general?” Jester asked.

“Your blood test indicates that you have a low midichlorian count,” the general explained quietly.

“So when I tried to reach out to you, I actually did it?” Jester asked, surprised. There had been a moment when something warm and comforting had seemed to wrap around him, but it was hazy and he’d fallen asleep soon after.

“Yes,” General Kenobi said gently. “I said as much then. But I must warn you, the levels suggest that you will have to struggle to use the Force.”

“That’s no surprise,” Jester replied with a snort. “But you say that like I’m going to try.”

“Are you not?” the general asked, startled. “I’m sorry for assuming, but you did ask.”

“I thought about it,” Jester answered with a shrug. “I mean, you know me, I like to be the life of the party. I just don’t know that I want to be the first one there. What if I’m the only one?”

“I don’t know,” General Kenobi said honestly. “Technically, you can’t be alone with all of the Jedi.”

“That’s not the same as being a vod,” Jester told him. He winced when he thought about how that sounded. “Sorry, sir, but it’s true.”

“So it is.” The man smiled at him. “I take no offense, either to the words or your refusal. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“Near the commander,” Jester chirped with a grin.

“Usually,” General Kenobi conceded with a small smile. “When I’m with the 212th. Although right now, I’m on restricted duty.”

“Restricted duty with a busted wing?” Jester asked skeptically. He laughed when the general pulled a face.

“I can still do paperwork,” he said with a sigh, as if the rumor wasn’t already going around about how he fought to be able to do that.

“Better you than me,” Jester told him cheerfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star Wars healing is strange to me, so I can't really pin down how long it might take for Jester to get out of the bacta tank. This isn't the end of his healing process, but that wasn't in the scope of this story.


End file.
